Black Sheep
by orenjikumo
Summary: Dudley grew up knowing that Harry Potter was different than him, and glad to know that he was nothing like him, nor that he'd have to face anything Harry might, but everything's changed now that he has a daughter, and she's just turned 11...


"Diddy dear!" a high pitched squeal came from downstairs.

In bed still and only half awake now, the young blonde girl sat bolt upright, and yawned, stretching her long arms. The voice, she knew could mean only one thing; the arrival of her grandmother. She rubbed at her eyes wearily and pulled at the skin on her face looking toward the window, at the pale blue sky.

"But darling, where in the world is that beautiful little child I've come miles to see?!" Petunia's voice rang out again.

Clover jumped from her bed, and yanked on some jeans and a shirt, before quickly raking a brush through her hair, and looking over her appearance in her floor length mirror. Deeming herself presentable, she opened the door to her bedroom, and walked down the stairs, smiling sheepishly as her grandmother crowed with joy at her entrance.

"Hullo Nan," she said as she reached the bottom step, and was swept into her grandmother's skinny arms. Clover cringed a bit at the pressure that her relative was putting on her as she pressed her into her thin skeleton.

"I'm so glad I got to come and see you before you start school! Tell me all about it while we enjoy breakfast, darling, I want to hear everything!" Petunia continued. Clover looked to her father, the stately and broad shouldered man that stood sighing and shaking his head in the corner at his mother's antics.

"She's always been this way." Dudley told his daughter quietly, as they sauntered to the kitchen. Petunia was gabbing away about gossip from back in Little Whinging, and commenting on things that seemed out of place in the house as she walked past. Every now and again Clover heard her say her go-to phrase of "if only Vernon could see you now!" and the small sigh of sadness that followed it.

Clover was still hoping to gain enough energy to seem even remotely interested in this surprise visit from her grandmother. It had been only 6 months since she'd last seen her, and was glad for the reprieve, as it seemed that Petunia Dursley's only setting when it came to children was to be overbearingly sweet, and shower her with gifts and food.

Dudley pulled the chairs from under the table offering them in turn to his mother and daughter as they entered the kitchen, Clover sat down as she usually did, and smiled at her father who winked before he took his seat, and passed her a plate that was loaded with eggs and bacon.

"Well, what do you think!?" Petunia asked, grabbing Clover's hand. Clover blinked and looked to her grandma with a curious gaze.

"Think about what?" Clover asked absently trying to snap back from her mid morning daze.

"Cheltenham?! It's only one of the most history rich girl's boarding schools in the world! And to think my little Clo is going to be rubbing shoulders with elites. Just like my Dudders, who got the finest education from Smeltings!" Petunia said happily, tearing up at memories. Clover nodded, and looked down at the table, wishing to talk about something else.

Dudley cleared his throat, and passed a small box wrapped in purple paper across the table to Clover, and smiled wide. "Happy 11th Birthday, Clover." He said proudly, "I just wish your mum was here to see how you've grown."

Clover smiled a little sadly, and then looked to the package. It had only been 2 years since her mother passed away. Her father was broken up about it for so long, and continually would blame himself for the state he'd gotten her into the night she left the house in a fit. Clover's therapist had always said it was a quick way to die, crashing head on into another car, but Clover always pictured it, and the images that filled her head of her mother lying in her front seat, gasping for air, and tear stained always gave her nightmares.

"Thanks dad." She said quietly while unwrapping the small parcel, and noticing a picture of a camera. She immediately whooped in joy, tearing faster at the paper, only to prove her thoughts correct. She had gotten the new digital camera she had been asking for all summer. Dudley smiled at his daughter, and then got up to wrap her in a hug.

Everything was jubilant for a moment, as Clover continued to open the box. Petunia clapped her hands together in delight, and then a small tapping caught all their attention. Looking up from the gift in her lap, Clover noticed that her grandmother had fallen silent, and was turning incredibly white.

Dudley followed his mother's gaze and noticed the owl that sat outside the window, only to slowly move in its direction. Clover was curiously gazing at the owl, surprised at seeing one out this late (or early for the owl).

"Is that a letter?" Clover asked incredulously, as her father unlatched the window. Petunia gave a small shriek as the owl took flight, and landed on the table in front of her and Clover.

Clover blinked, and looked at her grandmother who was now making small gasping noises, and opening and closing her eyes as if trying to shake off a nightmare. Dudley moved back to the table and looked at the owl, before he turned to Clover and gave a small but reassuring smile.

"I'm guessing this is for you." He said with a flat tone, motioning slowly to the owl. Clover stared at her father for a moment, and then turned to look at her grandmother, who was still having some sort of strange internal struggle.

With great caution, Clover stretched her fingers towards where the owl sat, clutching a letter in its beak. The owl gave a muffled hoot of approval and hopped forward, placing the letter in her hands.

"Er, thanks." She said with a grin. The owl hooted once more, and then took off through the still open window of the kitchen. Clover examined the letter that now rested in her hands. It was strange; she had never seen a letter written on such heavy parchment. The lettering was very crisp, almost as though it were typed, which Clover knew couldn't be possible because the letter showed signs of soaking up the ink as though it were written.

Miss Clover Alena Dursley

Number 16

Sir Charles Irving Close

Cheltenham

Clover stared at the words as though she could not read them, and then blinked looking confused. She turned the envelope, and saw a heavy wax seal, with an unfamiliar crest pressed deep into the red blotch.

"This is impossible…" Petunia said quietly, looking to her son with tears in her eyes. "Dudley, I'm so sorry, I…I couldn't have known, this is…" she stammered.

"Are you saying that Clover is the same as Harry?" Dudley asked his mother with a small quake in his voice. Petunia closed her eyes, more tears escaping the confines of her lids, and she nodded gently. Dudley stood up in a sort of outrage, which Clover couldn't help but shirk away from. She cowered slightly at her father's enraged tone, as she watched his temper flare at his mother's gesture.

"HOW?! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME? DID YOU NOT THINK THIS MIGHT HAPPEN? CAN IT RUB OFF ON PEOPLE?! WE NEED TO SPEAK TO HARRY!" Dudley boomed. Petunia cringed at every word, and tears leaked from her eyes in great waves now, as she wiped angrily at her onslaught of emotion

"Who's Harry? And what is he exactly?"Clover asked completely confused, as her father began to cool down a bit. Dudley grumbled something under his breath, and then pointed at her.

"Just open the letter, love. You'll find out." Dudley said with a defeated sigh, leaning forward into his hands which rested on the table. She stared at her father hoping he would not explode as he had just done.

He sat with his head in his hands for about 10 minutes, the kitchen was quite aside from the clock that ticked away the day. "Are you sure this is alright to read? It's not going to upset you daddy?" Clover asked her father gently.

Dudley did not stir immediately, but gave a great and shaky sigh from beneath his hands. "I'm not particularly sure what I was thinking Clover, my emotions got the best of me, and I apologize for that. Go ahead and read it."

Clover needed no more urging, she tore the envelope open and scanned the page voraciously.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall

Dear Miss Dursley,

We are pleased to inform you of your acceptance to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed with this letter you will find a list of supplies needed for all first year students. Term starts on September 1st and we expect your owl by no later than July 31st.

Sincerely Yours,

Filius Flitwick

_Deputy Headmaster_

Though she read them over and over, she still did not understand the meaning of the letter. She looked up from the parchment, her grandmother and father looking at her with expectant faces, but she could not find the words to say in this confusion.

"I…" she began quietly, her eyes still scanning the parchment. "I am a witch?"

Petunia began to sob again, and then began to shake her head, which seemed to bring her back to a more sensible attitude. "It would seem so. I supposed it had only stuck to the magical ones, but it seems I was wrong." She muttered.

"What do you mean Nan?" Clover asked, confused by her words. Dudley grabbed Clover's hands in his, and gave a weak smile.

"You, that is to say, I was not…but its okay you'll be able to do great things..." Dudley said softly. Clover blinked, becoming more confused by the second.

"What is this some kind of birthday prank?" she asked getting to her feet. Petunia and Dudley both shook their heads. "Then what is this? Who is Harry, and what the bloody hell does this mean?!" she shouted angrily at the adults.


End file.
